


Dark Skies

by kyrdwyn



Series: Skies Series [6]
Category: Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: Kid Fic, Lifemates - Freeform, M/M, Originally Posted Elsewhere, The Author Regrets Nothing, bonded characters, cannon took a left turn at the end of season 1, so nothing after that season really applies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-26
Updated: 2015-10-26
Packaged: 2018-04-28 05:24:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5079499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kyrdwyn/pseuds/kyrdwyn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Malcolm and Trip deal with the aftermath of their choices, while some new ones are made and a new woman enters their lives</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dark Skies

* * *

"You two are not allowed to work through dinner again."

Trip and Malcolm looked up to see Waslia Gesnick standing in the doorway to Engineering, her hands on her hips and an exasperated look on her face. The two men looked at each other sheepishly as they realized it was dinnertime, and they were hungry.

"Sorry, Waslia. We lost track of time while trying to fix the plasma injector." Trip gestured to the engine.

The Horatian woman shook her head, her black hair and two antennas swaying. "You can't fix the plasma injector on an empty stomach," she declared. "Now come along."

Malcolm shrugged and set his tools back into their case. "She outranks me," he said in response to Trip's quizzical look.

The engineer laughed. "Good point." Waslia was the mate of the captain of the _Kraynita_ , the Horatian cargo ship that Malcolm and Trip had signed onto after resigning their Starfleet commissions. They'd barely been back from a four-month involuntary exile when Starfleet Command wanted to transfer them back to San Francisco for testing on the Il'endi life form known as the kt'alini, which had saved both men's lives. It also joined them together in a telepathic bond, which led to their eventual marriage. They had chosen to resign rather than risk being separated by Starfleet. They would never let themselves be separated by anyone again.

Luckily, Terisan Gesnick had been in need of an engineer, and had been thrilled to discover that Trip and Malcolm were married. With Malcolm willing to work on the engines, he had hired both men onto his ship. As the lifemates followed Waslia to the mess hall, Trip reflected again on the Horatian's preference for mated pairs on his ship. He'd had too many transient crewmembers jump ship on his cargo run over the years, frustrated from the long journey and few distractions. Terisan, like human boomer cargo captains, believed that having your mate on the ship led to happiness in the posting. Of course, the fact that he traveled with his wife, the ship's cook, probably led to his belief. It was one Trip wouldn't dispute. Being here with Malcolm, their marriage openly acknowledged, was a good thing in his mind. The only thing better would be living openly on _Enterprise_.

Trip looked down at his lifemate as Malcolm took and squeezed his hand. Malcolm's gray eyes reflected the same thought.

//Maybe, one day,// Malcolm sent encouragingly. //Phlox did say the Captain was still working on changing Starfleet's mind.// The Denobulan was the only crewmember on _Enterprise_ who knew where the two men were. He'd given them his confidential medical frequency to send messages on, and he would reply with ship's gossip, medical advice, and updates on the 'situation', as he called it. It had been two months since they had resigned, and the wrangling between Captain Archer and Starfleet Command and the Vulcan High Command was still going on.

Entering the mess, Malcolm and Trip nodded at the other two couples on board the ship. Selika and Gerandik Veskan were the helm officer and communications officer, respectively. They were another Horatian pair, with the same black hair that stuck out from their skull and two antennae on the tops of their heads. The only difference between them and Terisan and Waslia was skin color. Selika and Gerandik were a dull orange, while Terisan and Waslia were a gray-blue that reminded Trip of Malcolm's eyes. The Horatians had explained that skin color indicated which continent on Horatia a pair was from.

The other couple on board ship was Denobulan, which had surprised both humans. Kerth and Wessic's other spouses were back on Denobula, but they had chosen a nomadic life for themselves, wandering the stars. Kerth was the ship's doctor and Wessic handled what was referred to as "Ops", basically a mixture of science officer and tactical officer. He and Malcolm had become good friends, discussing tactical matters into the early hours of the ship's morning on more than one occasion.

Terisan entered the mess, taking dishes from his wife and setting them on the table. "Tucker, Reed, how go the repairs?"

"We'll be done in a few hours, sir." Trip helped himself to a dish whose name he couldn't pronounce, but tasted enough like mashed potatoes that he enjoyed it.

"Good," Terisan said. "There are reports of raiders in the area, so I would like to leave as soon as possible." The _Kraynita_ was in orbit around a lifeless moon, repairing engines that had failed for no apparent reason.

Wessic and Malcolm looked at each other, the two weapons and defense experts both silently judging the ships readiness to fight off a raid.

//We'd better work overtime on getting the engine fixed, love. The _Kraynita_ can't handle a determined raid,// Malcolm told his lifemate after seeing that he and Wessic had come to the same conclusion.

Trip nodded. //I don't need sleep. Do you?//

Malcolm smiled. //Since I can't sleep if you're not in the bed, no.//

"You two really drive me up a wall when you do that," Kerth commented good-naturedly. As ship's doctor, she had discovered the kt'alini at the first physical she'd given them. The two men had been open with her about the abilities, not wanting to hide anything from this doctor. She'd insisted on telling Terisan, who had shrugged. So long as they worked hard, he didn't care what special abilities they had. The entire crew knew about the healing abilities and the telepathic bond by now, accepting it as normal for the two men.

"Sorry, Kerth. Old habits die hard," Malcolm apologized.

Selika smiled at the two. "At least we don't have to hear you two become mushy, unlike some other couples." She glanced at Terisan and Waslia.

The older Horatian pair laughed. "When you've been mated over a hundred years, you're entitled to get mushy," Waslia told Selika.

Trip and Malcolm smiled at each other as the bantering continued around the table. It was nice to be in a place where they were accepted freely.

* * *

"Doctor, may I join you?"

Phlox looked up to see Hoshi standing by his table. "Of course, Ensign! I'd be honored to have your company."

Hoshi smiled as she sat down, noticing the doctor's breakfast. "Pancakes with peanut butter? Isn't that Lieutenant Reed's breakfast of choice?" Like the rest of the crew, she still used the men's ranks when referring to their former crewmates. Phlox had noticed that several of them were optimistic about the men returning. Unfortunately, the doctor knew how badly the talks with Starfleet Command and the Vulcan High Command were going.

"It is, and I occasionally like to indulge. I'm not sure why he particularly enjoys this so much, but it is tasty."

Hoshi smiled. "How are they doing?" she asked in a low voice.

Phlox looked at her in surprise. "I have no idea," he lied. "I would presume they are still together, but I haven't spoken to them since they left the ship."

Hoshi regarded him calmly. "Well, when you talk to your I.M.E. colleague on board the _Kraynita_ , tell him we miss him."

"I don't know what you are talking about, Ensign."

"Doctor, I'm not dumb. I've noticed you have received a lot of messages from an I.M.E. colleague on the _Kraynita_ since the two of them resigned. I don't know the contents, since the messages are confidential, but it is rather suspicious. And you've been noticeably quiet about your colleague on that ship." She looked at him steadily. "If anyone asks, all I know is that they are confidential medical communications, which I neither read nor keep copies of."

Phlox nodded. "Thank you, Ensign. I will be sure to pass along your greetings to my colleague the next time we communicate."

* * *

Malcolm was on the bridge, filling in for Wessic, when Gerandik spoke up. "We're receiving a distress signal from a Morganian ship."

Terisan looked up from where he had been plotting their course with Selika. "What are they saying?"

Gerandik listened to his earpiece. Malcolm ran a quick check on the ops panel, making sure weapons were on-line and scanning the area for signs of the ship. He finally found it, but it wasn't in easy range of the _Kraynita_. He told Terisan that, who nodded as he waited for Gerandik's report.

"They're under attack from a Tenakian pirate cruiser, their weapons are down and they're requesting assistance."

"Can we assist them, Reed?"

Malcolm nodded. "But I'm not sure we'd get there in time." //Heads up, love, we might need to push the engines. Distress call.//

//Gotcha, thanks.// Malcolm could feel Trip's anxiety for the warp three engine he was now in charge of.

"We have to try," Terisan said as he slipped into his captain's station. He hit the com. "Tucker, I'm going to need whatever you can give me."

"You got it, sir," came the reply.

"Selika, set course and go."

* * *

The raiders were gone by the time the _Kraynita_ reached the vessel. Wessic, back at ops, scanned the ship. "I'm getting two Morganian life signs."

Terisan nodded. "Wessic, stay here in case the raiders return. Reed, tell Tucker to meet us in the launch bay—we're going over. We'll grab Kerth on the way down."

//Love, we're going over there. Terisan wants you to meet us in the launch bay.// Malcolm entered the lift a second behind Terisan.

//Life signs?//

//Two. Kerth is going with us.//

//Well, I'm prepping the shuttle for launch. Yes, there are weapons aboard, darlin'. Don't worry about stopping for some.//

Malcolm chuckled, and Terisan looked at him quizzically. "Tucker reminded me there are weapons on the shuttle so we don't need to stop and grab some on the way down. Just in case the raiders come back."

"Wise man, Tucker. And that bonding you have does come in handy," the captain added as they stopped on the deck where sickbay was. Kerth was waiting at the lift, her away kit in her hand.

"Wessic called me after you left the bridge. Said we were going over." She stepped into the lift. "Morganians use a nitrogen-oxygen atmosphere, so we won't need EV suits."

They reached the launch deck and hurried to the shuttle. Trip was at the controls. "I've set the translators for Morganian."

Terisan chuckled as he slid into his seat. "There are times when I wonder if I'm really needed on this ship, with you and Reed around." When Trip looked at him, apology on his face, the captain shook his head. "I like having competent crew! It's quite a change for me. The captain of whatever ship you served on before must have been blind to let you two go," he said as the airlock opened and the shuttle drop-launched.

//Let's hope he never meets up with the Cap'n, otherwise I'm not sure Jon would survive the tongue-lashing.// Trip still referred to Jonathan Archer as "Cap'n", even though they didn't serve on _Enterprise_ anymore.

//Before or after Waslia got through with him?// Malcolm sent the question with a mental grin. Waslia was very protective of her crew, and would probably take on Jonathan Archer with a wooden spoon if she knew he was Trip and Malcolm's former captain.

"We're coming up on their docking port," Malcolm said aloud.

Trip nodded. "I see it." He guided the shuttle to the port and swung around until the airlocks were in alignment. Then he ignited the maneuvering thrusters on the port side for a second—just enough to push the starboard side of the shuttle against the ship's hull and allow the docking clamps to latch on. A muffled thump sounded as they did, then the hiss of the vacuum between the airlocks being replaced with a rush of air.

Reed was the first to the door, checking the seals. When the lights turned green, he activated the airlock. The door cycled open and Reed activated the second one to reveal the gray interior of the Morganian ship.

Kerth had her scanner out. "I've got two life signs."

"Tucker, go with her. Reed, let's check out their bridge, see if we can find out what happened. You two keep in touch," he added.

Tucker and Reed nodded, sharing a glance with each other before heading in separate directions.

When Kerth and Tucker arrived in the small cabin, one of the life signs was fading. Kerth knelt by the body of one of the survivors, running the scanner over her. She looked at Tucker and shook her head mournfully. "I can't save her."

"What about the other one?"

Kerth moved to the smaller form. "This one is not as badly injured."

Tucker started to follow Kerth, but a hand suddenly grabbed onto his. Startled, he looked down into the green eyes of the dying woman, noticing how dark they were in her almost pure white face. She had a thin blue stripe from her hairline to the tip of her nose, a stripe that matched the ones circling her wrists.

"Merisel?" the woman hoarsely whispered. She glanced over to where Kerth was trying to treat the child.

Tucker covered the woman's hand with his other one. "She's fine. She's going to live," he reassured her.

The woman closed her eyes in relief before opening them, pain and worry clouding the surface. "The others?"

He shook his head. "I'm sorry."

"Then you must take her!" The woman fumbled at her belt for a pouch. "This is our family pouch. Merisel's lines are in here, back to the Founding." She closed her eyes, concentrating, and a soft blue glow enveloped the pouch for a moment. "I have placed your line in there, as Merisel's new father. I give her to you, to raise as your own. My people will know I have done this by the lines."

Tucker started. "Look, I —"

The hold on his hand became a crushing grip. "Please!" The fading green eyes held his, silently begging. Tucker knew the woman was dying, and he didn't have it in him to refuse her last request, especially one made on behalf of a kid.

"I'll take her. I'll raise her right, I promise." He took the pouch from the woman, who sighed in relief.

"Tell Merisel, daughter of Arande and Tonorel, that she was loved." The woman closed her eyes. She breathed shallowly a few times before giving one last sigh, her body instantly seeming like it had been diminished by the departure of her soul.

Tucker gently placed the woman's hand onto her stomach and stood up, holding the pouch. He looked over to where Kerth was treating the other. . . no, the only survivor of the ship. A young girl with long blonde hair and the same stripe down her face as her mother was shying away from Kerth.

//Did you just adopt?// Reed sounded incredulous.

//I think I did, darlin'. I didn't know she was gonna do that. I don't even know what she did.//

//From my end, it sounded like she gave you custody of her daughter, with the documents, or whatever, to prove it.//

//I guess she did.// Tucker glanced down at the pouch in his hand. //What am I gonna do with a kid?//

//Right now, I'd help Kerth to make sure the child survives. We can probably find the Morganian home world and her relatives there.//

//Right.// But although Reed's suggestion was a reasonable one, Tucker wasn't sure he wanted to do that. The mother had seemed so adamant that Tucker take Merisel. Shrugging, he walked over to Kerth and Merisel, kneeling down between them. Merisel was still trying to avoid Kerth's scanner, but she wasn't saying anything.

"It's okay, Merisel," Tucker said soothingly. "She's a doctor, she wants to help you."

Kerth looked at Tucker oddly, probably wondering how he knew the child's name. Merisel also looked at him oddly, then looked at the pouch in his hands. She reached out and brushed her fingers across it, looking back up at Tucker. He held back a gasp as he truly saw her eyes for the first time—they were the same gray color as his lifemate's. Along with her mane of honey-blonde hair, it made her appear as if she could have been their child—his and Malcolm's. In that instant, he fell for this child, knowing that even if they found her Morganian relatives, he would be loathe to give her up.

Barriers went up in his mind, as he was worried about what Malcolm would think. Malcolm was too preoccupied with Terisan and the ship's log, however, to have heard Trip's emotional reaction to the girl.

"You are my father now?" she asked timidly. "The lines do not lie?"

Tucker reached out and tenderly pushed a lock of hair behind the girl's ear. "The lines don't lie, sweetheart. Now let Dr. Kerth here make sure you're okay."

Merisel nodded and turned back to the doctor, who had been watching the exchange with wide eyes. Kerth shook her head and finished scanning the child. "Bruises and a broken left wrist. No concussion." She dug into her medical away kit and pulled out a bone regenerator. "Luckily, this will work on Morganian physiology." She reached for Merisel, only to have the girl dart out of her reach. Tucker rocked back on his heels as the girl slammed into him, wrapping her arms tightly around him and giving a squeak of pain. Tucker's arms instinctively went around her.

"Hey, it's okay. She's going to make sure your wrist doesn't hurt anymore. You can trust her, I do." He felt her relax in his arms. "Just let the doctor do her job." He carefully turned Merisel around held out her left arm toward Kerth. The Denobulan was still staring at him. He raised an eyebrow and nodded toward Merisel's arm. The doctor shrugged and ran the regenerator over her wrist while Tucker made soothing nonsense sounds to the child.

Finally, Kerth looked up. "I'm done."

Merisel looked down at her wrist and moved it, stiffening against the expected pain. When it didn't come, she smiled broadly at Kerth. "Thank you!"

Kerth smiled. "You're welcome." She turned and started putting her equipment away. Merisel got up and went over to where her mother's body lay, and knelt. Tucker saw her lips moving, and let the child have the time she needed to say goodbye.

* * *

Terisan and Malcolm were waiting for them back at the shuttle, Malcolm already doing the pre-flight checks. Tucker was carrying Merisel, her pale arms around his neck.

"Survivor?"

Tucker nodded as he carefully sat down, arranging the sleeping child. "Her mother was the other life sign. Before she died, she asked me to take her in. Gave me this." He held out the pouch to Terisan. The Horatian frowned.

"Tucker — did she say anything to you about lines?"

The engineer nodded. "She said she'd put my line in there, and that it would show her people that she had asked me to take the child."

Terisan looked at him. "Lines are important to Morganians. It's their family history and identity documents all in one. By putting your line in the family pouch, that's the equivalent to a permanent fostering among my people. To a Morganian, you are this child's father now."

Tucker blinked. "So even if we went to the Morganian home world —"

"Her Morganian relatives would need good reason to go against the lines placed in the pouch and take her under their care. Simply telling them that you do not wish to care for the child would not be enough."

Tucker looked down at the child, her face resting on his shoulder. "I never said I didn't want her," he said softly.

Terisan nodded with a small smile. "Then we shall have to alter the empty cabin next to the one you and Reed share, so she has a place. I think we have an extra blast door we can install into the adjoining bulkhead so you two won't have to go out and back in if she needs you."

Trip was listening to Terisan with half an ear. The rest of his attention was focused on his lifemate, who was sitting military-straight in the pilot's seat. Malcolm's barriers, so rarely used in the last two months, were now firmly in place. The living presence was in Trip's mind, but no thoughts or feelings came through. Thoughts sent across the bond probably wouldn't be heard, but Trip tried anyway. //Malcolm? Don't shut me out, please?//

There was no response, and no change in the stiff posture. "The shuttle is ready to launch, sir," was all he said.

The Horatian captain nodded. "Let's go home, then." He looked back at Trip and Kerth. "Reed and I sent out a message from their com system, indicating that we stopped to assist and would be taking the survivors on board our ship. We gave our com frequency and the coordinates we'll be taking the ship to—I don't want to leave it in the navigation lanes. We left a recording on board as well."

Trip didn't say anything, still focusing on the sliver of presence from his lifemate. He didn't want to make any more attempts at communication while Malcolm was piloting, but the near-total shutdown of their bond was scaring him.

Merisel shifted, and Trip looked down at her. She had the innocent look that children get when they are sleeping in the arms of someone they trust absolutely. He held her a little closer and looked back up at Malcolm. He knew they needed to talk. And they would, as soon as they got back to the ship.

* * *

Three months.

Jonathan Archer sat on the bed in his quarters and absently petted Porthos as he watched the stars streak past his window. It had been three months since he'd walked into his ready room and found Trip and Malcolm's resignations on his desk. Three months in which he couldn't apologize to either man for his own actions. Three months in which he'd tried every way he could think of to get Starfleet Command to rescind the transfer order for the two men. The orders were still in place, despite the resignations. If Commander Tucker and Lieutenant Reed re-joined Starfleet, they were to be sent to San Francisco and Starfleet Medical.

Jon cursed under his breath, knowing his own actions had helped drive the two men away. He'd been just as surprised, and admittedly disturbed, by the knowledge of the kt'alini living inside them. He shuddered as he thought of Trip's very graphic demonstration of the healing abilities granted to him and Malcolm by the life forms—watching his best friend deliberately slice his arm open with a scalpel was something he never wanted to repeat.

Trip and Malcolm had taken advantage of _Enterprise_ 's orders to dock at the nearest starbase by resigning and apparently signing on with a civilian cargo ship. The Vulcans who had been sent to transport the men to Earth had searched the station for them, to no avail. _Enterprise_ had eventually been ordered to resume their mission, but Jon wasn't about to let his best friend and his best friend's lifemate down again. He'd done that when he'd turned away from them.

Sighing, he looked down at the padd in his hand. On the screen was a draft of his latest letter to Starfleet Command, outlining all the reasons why Commander Tucker and Lieutenant Reed should not be transferred to Starfleet Medical if they returned to Starfleet. It wasn't anything he hadn't said before, but he was determined to keep saying it until someone back on Earth listened.

* * *

Reeds don't cry. Reeds don't show emotions in public. Reeds don't resent four-year-old alien children. Reeds don't believe that transferring to Starfleet Medical would be preferable to this.

Malcolm sighed. Screw being a Reed. It wasn't doing him much good right now. All it did was allow him to maintain a professional demeanor on duty and hide from everyone on ship just how much his heart was breaking.

Shifting onto his side, Malcolm stared out the window. He wasn't totally Reed, though. He was half a Burns, thanks to his mother. Not that having Burns genes was any better—they were yet another Royal Navy family who could trace their sailing lineage back to the days of Queen Elizabeth I and the Spanish Armada. Burns men didn't plot ways of launching moppet-like alien children out torpedo tubes; they smiled politely in public and put away a few quarts of Scotch whiskey in private. Unfortunately for Malcolm, there was no Scotch whiskey on the _Kraynita_.

That left the Tucker part of him. Tucker by marriage, at least, so he supposed he was entitled to adopt a few traits. Well, he was enjoying the engineering work on the _Kraynita_ , so that was one. He'd even developed a taste for catfish, so that was another trait.

He just couldn't pick up the trait of looking into Merisel's eyes and giving his heart to her, to the exclusion of his lifemate.

To be fair, Trip had talked to him just after they'd gotten back from the Morganian ship. Trip explained what happened with Merisel's mother, and how once he really looked at the girl and realized she could be their child, just in alien form, that he was a goner, as he put it. Malcolm had nodded and said he understood. Trip then introduced him to Merisel as his lifemate. Merisel merely looked at Malcolm with those wide gray eyes and nodded at him, still clinging to Trip. Eventually, she'd started to refer to him as "Maeleth", a Morganian word that meant "half-father". From what Terisan had told him, it was a term to refer to your parent's mate. Merisel had, however, decided to call Trip "Daddy" when he told her that's what he had called his father. The child had obviously bonded with Trip to the point that neither of them would give up on the other.

Malcolm got up off the bed and shot a dark glance toward the blast door that led into Merisel's quarters. Trip was in there now, having gone in after his shift to say goodnight. She'd asked for a story, and by the time she was asleep, Trip himself was dozing off on her bed. They were both asleep now.

This was not the first night Malcolm had spent alone in their bed since Merisel had come aboard. It seemed like she now came first in Trip's life, with Malcolm a distant second. Yes, they'd still made love on the rare nights Trip came to bed, but Malcolm could feel him holding something back. Of course, he wasn't the only one.

Sitting down at the console, Malcolm activated the recorder. He needed to talk to someone about this, before things came to a nasty resolution. While he knew his friends on the _Kraynita_ would offer sympathetic ears, Malcolm wanted the opinion and advice of someone who had known him a bit longer.

"Computer, begin recording." The computer chirped at him. "Dear Phlox..."

* * *

When a single message arrived from the _Kraynita_ at an unusual time, Phlox was worried. Usually, the messages were sent in pairs—one from Tucker and one from Reed, and sent every seven days. He had gotten their last messages four days ago. He quickly managed to get through with his light load of patients—a few engineers suffering from plasma burns after the warp engine decided to go 'on the fritz' again, though the doctor wasn't sure what anyone named Fritz had to do with the problems, since he knew there was no one by that name on board.

Still, by the time the last engineer was healed and sent back to her quarters to rest, Phlox was nervous about the contents of the message. Had something happened to one of the men? Had something happened to Tucker's young child Merisel?

He closed the door to his office and pulled up the message on the screen. It was a video message, rather than the simple text letter he often received, although Tucker's now included pictures of him and Merisel together. He started the message, and then paused it to take in the man recording it.

Malcolm Reed looked, as the human colloquialism went, like death warmed over. His skin was several shades paler than usual, his eyes surrounded by dark circles, and he was in a ratty shirt and slacks. While the outfit could pass for sleepwear, Phlox was fairly certain the man was not getting a proper night's rest, and hadn't been for a while. Sighing, wondering if his worst fears about the men's bond were to be confirmed—that if one died the other would not be able to live alone—he started the message again.

"Dear Phlox, I know this is unexpected and I apologize if I have caused you concern. Both Trip and Merisel are alive and well. In fact, they're both asleep in Merisel's bed right now.

"I, however, am not quite as fine. Honestly, I need someone to talk to and since I can't talk to Trip about this just yet, I hoped you wouldn't mind if I came to you about this." Malcolm looked at the screen with a half-smile. "You are, after all, still my doctor. Or at least one of them."

Malcolm shifted in his seat, slumping against the back and staring down at his hands. "I'm not good at talking about things, I know. That's probably part of the problem here. I can't really tell Trip what I'm feeling, at least not in words. I am, however, too afraid to let down the barriers I've put up between us and let him into my mind to see what I'm feeling. Because I know I'll upset him, and I don't want to do that."

Malcolm ran a hand through his already messy hair. "I suppose I should be honest with myself, and you. I'm rather jealous of a four-year-old alien orphan." He sighed, and his shoulders seemed to slump even further. "God, it sounds so petty and stupid and yet I can't help it. There are times when I almost think that not answering that distress call would have been a good thing. But Terisan's like Captain Archer, unable to leave a ship in distress. I also know that neither of us, myself included, could have just left Merisel there alone. Yet ever since she's come on board, ever since Trip adopted her, it's almost like I'm not really here. To him, I mean."

Phlox was looking in the background beyond Malcolm. Tucker had entered the room though the adjoining door and was standing by it, arms crossed over his chest and watching his lifemate intently. He obviously knew Malcolm was recording a message, but wanted to hear what the man was saying.

"I don't know why I can't seem to bond with Merisel. She's a nice enough child, I suppose. And she adores Trip, not that I can really blame her there. It's just...I guess I'm being selfish. I want my husband back. Plus, I've never been good around children—probably because I was never allowed to be a child myself," he added bitterly. "That does tend to skewer one's view of children."

Behind Malcolm, Trip was still silently watching, though he was looking rather hurt.

"I think my real problem is that I'm afraid Trip is seeing what he's given up by falling in love with me—his chance for a family of his own. I never wanted children—I'm too afraid I'd end up just like my father and I can't put a child through that. But I know Trip has wanted children, and I can't give him that. Not unless we meet up with a Xyrillian ship."

Phlox noticed Trip was trying not to say something in response to that.

"He says he loves Merisel because she looks like she could be our child. That does hurt, you know, because it's almost as if he is saying he wants us to have children." Malcolm stopped and looked at something off the monitor. "I don't know," he finally said. "Maybe I'm just tired of coming in second in Trip's life. I know Merisel needs him, needs a father figure and attention, but I need him as well. I need him so much that sometimes I'm afraid of how I feel. And I'm really afraid that's why I dislike Merisel so much."

Trip looked stunned.

"I just wish he'd tell me if it was over, so I could stop wondering if he's going to come to our bed each night, instead of staying with her. So I could maybe start figuring out how to live with him in my head, but no longer as his lifemate. God knows it won't be easy, but I'll do it if that's what he wants."

Malcolm looked down at the floor, while Trip had tears on his face. Phlox wondered how strong Malcolm's mental barriers were if he couldn't feel what Trip was feeling. The rift between the two men must be stronger than either really suspected.

Malcolm finally looked up, and Phlox could see the restrained tears in the former lieutenant's gray eyes. "Anyway, I'm sorry to burden you with this, but I needed someone to talk to. I'm not sure what I'm going to do, but I will let you know what happens. Thanks for listening, Phlox. I do appreciate everything you've done for Trip and myself. And tell Hoshi I said hello, would you? Good evening." Malcolm leaned forward and hit something on the monitor. Phlox's screen returned to the _Enterprise_ logo, and the Denobulan sat back in his chair, disturbed by the message. It was bad enough that both men were virtually cut off from their former lives and friends, but to be separated from each other, as they appeared to be, could have a devastating psychological effect. While on Il'endi they'd had each other for support, but now it appeared they were farther apart than they had ever been.

Phlox just hoped that Tucker would be able to speak to his lifemate without making their rift irreparable.

* * *

"Do you want us to be over?"

The quiet Southern accent of his lifemate startled Malcolm out of the reverie he'd sunk into after sending his recording to Phlox. He turned in his chair, seeing Trip standing by the doorway to Merisel's room, tears on his cheeks.

"Do you want us to be over?" Trip asked again, staring at Malcolm. "'Cause I'll do what you want, Malcolm. If you want to end our marriage, I will."

Malcolm shook his head, swallowing. "No," he said in a harsh whisper. "I don't want us to be over."

"Then what do you want, Mal? Cause you've been acting weird ever since Merisel came aboard."

"I've been acting weird?" Malcolm's barriers dropped and he let his lifemate feel what he'd been going though. "You're the one who's spent more nights in her room than in ours! You're the one who doesn't seem to notice that I'm here at all anymore. How many times have you just disappeared from the engine room, not even a word to me about where you're going? How many times have I had to hear from Selika or Wessic or anyone else about where you and Merisel are? God, I used to wonder if you would leave me for a woman someday, but I never thought you'd leave me because you adopted a child! That's not something I can even compete with, Trip! I know how much you want a family—I've known that since we nearly died on that damn shuttle pod, but that's the one thing I can't give you. I swore that I'd never have children because I'm too afraid I'll end up like my father—a cold, heartless bastard who plots out the course of their lives the day they are born." Malcolm turned away from Trip, staring out the window.

Trip sighed, a little overwhelmed by the verbal and mental onslaught of an angry Malcolm. "I've never regretted what we have, Malcolm. I love you. I love you and I know what goes along with loving you—including not having kids. Hell, it didn't matter to me once we got married. All I needed was you." Trip walked up to stand behind Malcolm, putting his hands on his lifemate's shoulders. "I'm sorry. I guess I'd gotten so used to feeling what you feel that when I didn't feel anything, I thought you were okay with Merisel." Tucker gave a harsh laugh. "Okay, that sentence was a bit confusing." Malcolm gave a weak chuckle. Trip smiled. "I need you, Malcolm. I need you in my life, in my head, in my heart. Do you think that our distance hasn't hurt me this past month? It was easier for me to stay with Merisel than lie next to you in our bed, not knowing what demons you were fighting!" The blond man rested his forehead on the dark hair. "I think we've both made some mistakes, here. But I don't want this to end. I could take being just your bondmate before, but I couldn't go back to it now, not after all this time. Not after giving you my soul." Trip turned Malcolm around to face him, seeing the hope in the gray eyes and feeling his heart break at the sight. //I love you, Malcolm. I'm sorry I hurt you.//

Malcolm reached up to pull Trip to him, dropping the last of the barriers. //I'm so sorry, love. I've been a jealous ass about all this. I should never have cut you out.//

//No, but then again I never really tried to find out what was bothering you, either. And you're wrong, you know. You would never be like your father. You treat Merisel with more warmth than I'm sure he would. And don't say that's only because she's my daughter,// Trip warned before Malcolm could respond. //There is more to it than that, and we both know it. You've got a soft spot for the kid.//

//Well, she does like explosions...//

Trip laughed out loud, hugging Malcolm to him tightly. //And you wonder why I think she's our child in spirit.// He stepped back a bit, looking at Malcolm closely, running his thumb along Malcolm's jaw line. //Promise me you'll talk to me instead of shutting me out? I hate being alone in my own mind.//

Malcolm nodded solemnly. //I promise. And I'll try to get along more with Merisel, for you.//

//No, try to get along with Merisel because she is a great kid, okay?//

//All right.//

//Good.// Trip pulled Malcolm to him and kissed him. //Now, can I interest you in some quality time together?//

//I think I can be...persuaded.//

Trip sighed in relief, pulling Malcolm to him and back-walking to their bed. He let Malcolm take control, feeling the other man's need to apologize underneath the love and the lust that came through the bond. Trip closed his eyes, reveling in the mental aspect of their lovemaking, something that had been absent this past month. He'd forgotten how good it was to feel what Malcolm felt, their bond a conduit to arouse each other. The audible noises were enhanced by the mental words — words of instruction and pleading and, most commonly, words that spoke of their love for each other.

Trip held Malcolm tightly after they had shuddered out their orgasms in each other's arms. //I can't lose you, Mal. If that means finding the Morganians and giving up Merisel, I'll do it.//

//I can't ask that of you, love.// Malcolm had his face burrowed into the hollow where Trip's neck and shoulder joined. //Then I truly would be a selfish ass.//

//Like I'm not selfish for wanting both you and Merisel? I think you wanting your husband to yourself is human, Mal.//

//Can we just agree to try this 'family' thing again?// Malcolm asked hesitantly.

Trip smiled and kissed the top of Malcolm's head. //Anything you want, darlin'.//

* * *

Malcolm grumbled under his breath as he tried to find a comfortable position to sleep in. He was barred from anything resembling duty while the kt'alini finished healing a rather long and deep cut down the left side of his back, the product of a fight on the Corvellian starbase while the _Kraynita_ had been docked there. Terisan had been bargaining for some spare parts that another ship's crew wanted, and they decided to make sure Terisan knew of their claim. Malcolm had gotten the knife down his back while protecting his captain. Luckily, station security had intervened before anyone else got hurt. The matter had appalled Station Authority, and they gave the spare parts to the _Kraynita_ and allowed them to leave early without paying the docking fees or penalties.

Trip had been waiting in Sickbay with Kerth when Terisan and Wessic had brought Malcolm in. He'd mentally berated Malcolm while Kerth cleaned and bandaged the wound. The kt'alini had already stopped the bleeding, and she could see where the cells were beginning to pull the muscle back into one whole, unblemished piece. It was just going to take a bit of time, and she wasn't about to let Malcolm interfere with the healing process. When Malcolm had protested he was fine, Kerth had ignored him and looked at Trip. "He's not fine, he's in pain," Trip told the doctor, who looked pointedly at Malcolm, reminding him that she could very easily determine when he was lying. Malcolm gave in to the dictates of his doctor and his lifemate and retreated to his quarters.

//If you keep moving like that, the kt'alini won't be able to heal you.//

//I'm sorry, but the bed is too big and I don't have my usual pillow.//

Trip's chuckle came through the bond. //Someone's got to make sure the engine's okay in case those bullies decide to come after us. Now try to sleep. You know that helps the process go faster.//

//Yes, doctor.//

Trip chuckled again and Malcolm felt a light barrier go up—just enough to allow Trip to work while still monitoring Malcolm's mood. No stray thoughts would pass through, but any sudden change would be instantly noticed.

Malcolm sighed again as he settled onto his right side, facing into the cabin. He closed his eyes and tried to sleep. The soft whoosh of a blast door opening interrupted, and he opened his eyes to see Merisel standing hesitantly in the doorway to her quarters. Malcolm smiled at her. He'd tried, over the past month, to be more open toward her. He had treated her warmly before, for Trip's sake, but now he was trying to get to know her. He'd already discovered her fondness for explosions, but he also found that she was intelligent and highly perceptive—she'd seen the change in his and Trip's relationship and started making her own overtures to Malcolm, sitting between him and Trip at meals and seeking him out for company sometimes.

The two of them had developed a routine of sitting in one of the out-of-the-way cargo bays with a window, Merisel in Malcolm's lap as they both watched the stars streaming by. Sometimes Merisel brought a padd along with her, one of the books that Kerth had salvaged from the Morganian vessel, and persuaded Malcolm to read aloud to her. Other times they just sat there quietly until Trip would seek them out and coax them into rejoining the ship.

"Maeleth? Are you feeling better?" she asked quietly. Malcolm noticed she was clutching something to her chest, a stuffed toy that resembled no beast Malcolm knew.

Malcolm sat up. "I'm fine, Merisel. Just trying to heal."

Merisel walked over to the bed and held out the toy. "Katren always makes me feel better when I'm sick."

Malcolm reached out and gently took the offering. "Well, let's see if he helps me, hm?" He tucked the toy in between his body and his left arm, holding it close to his chest. "Seems to be working," he said with a grin. Merisel giggled before she sat on the edge of the bed. She had something else in her hands—her family pouch, the repository of her family history and ancestors. The pouch that would prove to any Morganian that she was legally Trip's daughter by Morganian custom, though neither Trip nor Malcolm was quite sure how the concept of 'lines' worked.

"Something wrong, Merisel?"

"You are Daddy's mate," she said quietly.

Malcolm nodded. "Yes, I am."

She looked at him, the gray eyes so similar to his troubled. "How come your lines aren't here?"

"I wasn't with Daddy when he spoke with your mother, and she put his lines into the pouch. She didn't know he was mated, she just knew he was the right person to care for you," Malcolm replied honestly. Though Merisel was four chronologically, according to Kerth, she was more developed mentally, a result of Morganian genetics. They matured at a much faster rate. Sometimes, Malcolm thought Merisel was an eight-year-old human child in Morganian form.

"Daddy didn't put your lines in here."

"I don't think Daddy knows how. Humans don't have family lines and pouches."

Merisel nodded, looking back at the pouch. "On Morgania, Daddy would be called 'Airith'. What did you call your daddy?"

Malcolm winced slightly at the memories her innocent question stirred. "I called him 'Father' or 'Sir'."

"Should I call you that?"

"No!" Malcolm exclaimed, startling the girl. He put a hand out to stop her from falling off the bed. "I didn't mean to startle you, but I prefer 'Maeleth' to what I called my father." He also didn't want to put that kind of formality into their relationship. He was afraid that would distance the two of them, causing him to act as his father had. He never wanted to hurt Merisel, and Trip, by being that cold.

"Can I call you Airith?" she asked shyly.

"My lines aren't in your pouch," he pointed out carefully. "Daddy's are." Malcolm hated being given titles that weren't his. He wasn't Merisel's father, just her father's mate.

"I can put them in there, as my other father."

Malcolm looked at her, seeing the unspoken plea in her eyes. She wanted him as her father, he realized. Though he wasn't sure about it himself, he was unable to deny her the request.

"If that's what you want, I would be honored."

Merisel beamed, climbing up to sit on the bed and take Malcolm's hand in hers. She closed her eyes, and concentrated. A soft blue glow enveloped the pouch for a few seconds before fading. Merisel opened her eyes, and smiled. "Now you are my Airith."

Malcolm smiled at the happy expression on her face. If this was what Trip had seen when she first realized Trip was her father, he could understand why he had fallen so hard. "Now you are my daughter," Malcolm said quietly.

Merisel picked up Katren, dropped when Malcolm had kept the girl from falling off the bed. She held the toy out to him again. "Do you want Katren and I to stay with you while Daddy works?"

Malcolm took the toy and smiled. "I'd like that."

He lay back down on the bed, noticing the muscles hurt less now. Merisel stretched out next to him on the bed, falling asleep instantly in the way children did. He stayed awake, watching her, until the stresses of the day caught up to him, and he fell asleep as well.

Down in engineering, Trip smiled. He'd heard the conversation after Malcolm had rejected the idea of Merisel calling him 'Father' or 'Sir'. He couldn't help it—Malcolm's violent mental rejection of the idea had broken though the light barrier. Startled, Trip had focused on Malcolm, hearing their conversation. He'd hardly dared to breathe for fear Malcolm would realize he was there. He didn't want to influence Malcolm in any way in this decision. He'd been just as surprised at Merisel's wanting to put Malcolm's lines into the pouch. She'd never mentioned the idea to him. And he knew the answer had to be Malcolm's, though he was relieved Malcolm said yes.

They were truly a family now, he thought. Not quite what he'd envisioned when he'd been growing up, but he wouldn't trade what he had for any so-called normal family on Earth.

* * *

After the raiders had been driven back, Jonathan Archer sat in his command chair and reviewed the status reports from all over the ship. Half of the crew was injured, the warp core was damaged, and weapons were offline. He looked over at his second-in-command, who was reviewing the reports as well. When T'Pol finally looked up at him, he could see that she had reached the same conclusion he had.

"Hoshi," he said. "Send out a distress call. We're going to need some help."

* * *

Kerth appeared in the doorway to Engineering, where Malcolm and Trip were working on the reactor, doing routine maintenance.

"You two up to helping out another ship fix their warp engines?"

The lifemates looked at each other, then back at the Denobulan. "Always," Trip said cheerfully.

"Good, since Terisan already volunteered the three of us to go with him. Selika picked up a distress signal—ship took some damage in a raider attack. They repelled the raiders, but there's a lot of crew injured."

Trip and Malcolm had already started packing their tool cases. "What kind of ship?" Trip asked.

"And who's going to watch Merisel?" Malcolm added.

Kerth grinned. "I'm not sure, and Selika and Gerandik are staying, as are Waslia and Wessic. She'll be spoiled plenty."

"Great," Trip said with an exaggerated sigh. "It'll take weeks to get her back to normal."

Malcolm picked up his tool kit. "So, when are we going?"

"Now," Kerth said, indicating her away kit. "I'm going to help out their doctor while you two fix the engines and Terisan does the captain thing."

Both men joined her on the short walk to the launch bay. Merisel was waiting for them by the shuttle. "I want a goodbye kiss!"

Trip handed his case to Malcolm and picked up the little girl, giving her an ostentatious kiss on the cheek. "You be good, you hear? If not, Airith will have you cleaning impulse manifolds."

Merisel giggled. "No he won't."

Malcolm had stashed the cases in the shuttle and now came back out. "I won't what?"

Merisel turned to him, holding out her arms to be held. Malcolm took the girl and hugged her. "You won't make me clean 'mpulse manny-folds if I'm not good."

"Of course not! I'd just make you watch 'Casablanca' with Daddy."

"No!" Merisel exclaimed in mock-horror. "I'll be good, Airith! I promise!"

//Hey!//

//What? It works!//

Malcolm gave her a kiss on the cheek before setting her down. "Go see Waslia. You know you can't stay in the launch bay when we leave."

Merisel gave Trip another hug before dashing for the door. The two men looked at each other, pride for their daughter in their faces. Then they ducked into the shuttle, noticing Terisan at the controls already.

"You two done being mushy with your daughter?" he asked with mock exasperation.

"Yes, sir, we are," Trip replied with no remorse.

"Good." Terisan was smiling, though.

Malcolm closed and double-checked the hatch. "All secure, sir."

Terisan nodded and opened the doors, drop-launching them into space. The shuttle turned to face the damaged ship, and both Malcolm and Trip gasped in recognition.

Kerth heard it. "Something wrong?"

Malcolm swallowed. "That's _Enterprise_. Tucker and I served on that ship before we came here."

"We resigned our military commissions because they didn't accept the kt'alini—they wanted to send us back to our home planet for testing," Trip said in a hoarse voice.

Terisan slowed his approach to the ship. "Do you want to return to the _Kraynita_? I'm not about to put you two into danger."

Malcolm and Trip looked at each other. //If they need the help that badly, I can't just walk away,// Trip sent.

//Neither can I. But what if they try to take us away from the _Kraynita_? From Merisel?//

Trip's hands clenched into fists. //We'll just have to let them know that's a really bad idea.//

Terisan broke into the men's conversation. "We only had an audio conversation with Captain Archer. So there is no way I could have known you two were of the same species. And if your parting was bad, then you might not have said anything to me. So...I just won't act like I know you're from their ship. That will at least require them to be polite when Kerth and I are around. And I'll raise, how do you say it, Tucker? Holy hell?" At the Southerner's nod, Terisan continued. "I'll raise holy hell if they try to keep you."

Kerth snorted. "If I have to drug their entire ship to make sure they don't, I will."

Malcolm and Trip looked at each other, warmed by the actions of their friends. "Then what are we waitin' for?" Trip asked. "Let's go fix a warp engine!"

* * *

Captain Archer stood by Sub-Commander T'Pol as the _Kraynita_ 's shuttle approached their docking port. Ensign Sato was in Sickbay, trying to help Phlox, and had been when the _Kraynita_ 's transmission came through, so he was glad the other ship's translators had adapted to English so quickly.

"I hate asking for help," he said.

T'Pol raised an eyebrow. "With Lieutenant Hess injured, as well as almost half the crew, we can use additional technical expertise in Engineering and Medical right now. Captain Gesnick volunteered his engineers and doctor. It would be illogical not to accept."

"We don't know how skilled any of them are."

The sound of the airlock door opening forestalled any comment T'Pol would have made. The inner airlock door opened to reveal a gray-blue alien with short black hair sticking out two inches from his skull, and two antennas rising above the hair. "Captain Archer? I'm Captain Terisan Gesnick of the _Kraynita_."

Archer held out his hand. Terisan shook it. "Pleasure to meet you, Captain Gesnick." He indicated T'Pol. "My first officer, Sub-Commander T'Pol." The Vulcan nodded at the other captain. "I appreciate your offer of help," Archer said.

Gesnick smiled. "Not a problem, Captain. We space-farers need to stick together." Three other forms appeared behind him. "May I introduce my ship's doctor, Kerth." A Denobulan woman stepped forward and nodded at Archer and T'Pol.

Archer nodded back. "Our ship's doctor is also a Denobulan," he told the woman. She smiled.

"I look forward to meeting him. It has been a long time since I have seen another of my race, except for my husband."

Gesnick turned to the other figures, who were still in the shadow of the docking port, making it difficult to determine their race. "These are my engineers, Trip Tucker and Malcolm Reed."

Archer's jaw fell at the names, and then seemed to fall further when two men he never thought he'd see again stepped into the hallway of _Enterprise_. Two men who were greeting him like they'd never served with him.

Malcolm nodded. "Captain Archer." Trip gave the same formal greeting.

Archer managed to close his mouth, ignoring the raised eyebrow from T'Pol. "Gentlemen," he said. T'Pol also nodded at the men.

"Why don't I show Mr. Tucker and Mr. Reed to our engine room, while you take Dr. Kerth to Sickbay?" Archer said to T'Pol. She merely nodded.

"Captain, if you don't mind, I'd like to make sure Dr. Kerth settles in before joining my engineers in working on the repairs."

Archer nodded. "That would be fine, Captain."

The two groups parted ways, with Captain Gesnick warning his engineers to stay away from life forms with lines, something that confused the _Enterprise_ officers and had Trip and Malcolm smirking.

In the turbolift on the way to Engineering, Archer studied the two men. They looked well, he was happy to see. Both were in civilian clothing, jeans and shirts and boots. They'd kept their hair neatly trimmed this time, rather than the longer length it had been on Il'endi. They also looked content. As Archer watched, Trip turned to Malcolm and smiled. Malcolm smirked again, shaking his head. Archer felt left out of what was undoubtedly a private conversation being conducted along the kt'alini bond.

"So, how long have you been serving on the _Kraynita_?"

Trip looked up from Malcolm's face. "About five months."

Five months—just after they'd resigned from _Enterprise_. "Are you happy there, Trip, Malcolm?"

Trip's blue eyes went cold. "Are you always on a first name basis with members of other crews, Captain Archer?" he asked formally.

"Trip, I'm your friend," Archer began. Trip opened his mouth to cut Archer off when Malcolm placed a hand on Trip's forearm. Trip looked down at him and Malcolm shook his head. Trip sighed, nodding in response to whatever Malcolm had said. He leaned against the former armory officer, resting his forehead on the top of Malcolm's head. Archer looked away, embarrassed by the intimacy of their actions. It spoke of a loving relationship that was enhanced by their bond. He felt like an outsider.

He also felt lonely, not having the bond they did. He had, for a few hours once, been connected with Trip and Crewmen Rostov, Kelly, and Zabrel through a creature that had taken over Cargo Bay Two, but they had been fighting against the bond at the time, not accepting it. It also hadn't been something feasible for the long term, unlike the kt'alini. Still, those moments of bonding gave him a glimpse into what things must be like for his former Chief Engineer and Armory Officer. He'd only wondered about it before, but now he could see it.

The lift slowed and stopped outside of engineering. Archer noticed how quickly the two men snapped into professional mode, as if they had not been acting like the lovers they were just a few seconds earlier. He winced, wondering how many times over their month on _Enterprise_ they'd perfected that action.

They walked into engineering and Trip and Malcolm stopped when they saw the damage to the warp reactor. Trip gave a low whistle, earning him the attention of a nearby crewman. The man frowned at Trip before turning back to his work, then stopped and turned completely around and stared.

"Commander Tucker! Lieutenant Reed!" he exclaimed, causing more than a few heads to turn in the room. There were a lot of gasps of surprise at seeing the two men.

Trip smiled at Crewman Aikman. "Hey, Mitch. You can drop the 'Commander' bit; I'm here as volunteer help, same as Malcolm here. Where's Hess?" Trip assumed Hess had been given his former position. He'd recommended her for it in his resignation letter.

"Lieutenant Hess is in Sickbay with plasma burns, Com...Mr. Tucker." The crewman couldn't bring himself to be too familiar with a man he'd served under. "Lieutenant Dunne is in charge."

Trip nodded. "Guess we'd better check in with him and see where he needs us." Trip could see the surprise on the crewman's face.

//I think he expected you to take charge, love.//

//You know I'd love to, this engine was my baby, but it's not my place.//

//Right. It's going to be hard enough for the crew, having us here at all, without us trying to regain our former positions.//

Lieutenant Dunne hurried up, alerted to the presence of his captain and his former commanding officer. "Captain Archer, sir."

Archer nodded at the man. "Lieutenant, these are the engineers from the _Kraynita_." Archer wanted to make sure that everyone knew the men were not back officially. He didn't want to get the crew's hopes up. That would be wrong and cruel to a ship already damaged by the raider attacks.

"We'll be happy to help in any way we can, Lieutenant," Malcolm said formally. "Where do you need us?"

To his credit, Lieutenant Dunne didn't even blink at having the authority to order around men who had once been his superiors. "Well, now that we've got the plasma fires under control, we're just starting to assess the damage. If you wouldn't mind assisting Crewman Aikman, Mr. Reed, I could use your help at the main controls, Mr. Tucker."

"Sounds like a plan," Trip said. He turned to Archer. "With your permission, Captain?"

Archer nodded and the group broke up. Malcolm moved toward Crewman Aikman and set down the case he was holding. The crewman started to explain his job to Malcolm, who nodded and then began to help.

Turning back to Trip and Lieutenant Dunne, Archer smiled. It was a familiar sight to see Trip on the platform by the main reactor controls, even if the civilian clothing was unexpected. Archer knew Lieutenant Dunne was going to shamelessly use Trip's intimate knowledge of the Warp 5 engine, and would probably put Trip in charge of the repairs in all but name. The orders would come from Lieutenant Dunne, but everyone would know they were really from the former Commander Charles Tucker. That knowledge had lifted the pall in the engineering compartment considerably, Archer noticed.

He turned to leave, knowing the engine was in good hands, and wondering if there would be a way to let Malcolm have at the phase cannons while he was on board. Just to make sure they were working properly. Archer was under no illusions that the men would stay longer than was required by the repairs, as much as he would like them to.

* * *

"I've got to get back to Engineering."

Kerth placed a hand on the shoulder of the redheaded woman who was trying to climb off a biobed. Phlox was on the other side of the diagnostic area, working on another injured crewmember. Kerth was amazed by the number of people the other Denobulan doctor was responsible for, considering how overwhelmed she sometimes felt caring for her crew of nine, including herself. Granted, there were medical assistants to help, but he was still the chief physician on _Enterprise_.

Kerth shook her head at the woman. "You are in no shape to be working in engineering. Your wounds have not healed yet." Kerth went back to her petri dish. "Your skin still needs to regenerate."

"We've got to fix the reactor. No offense, but I don't know how good your engineers are on our technology."

Kerth finished mixing a poultice of herbs she'd gathered in her travels, ones that were especially effective on plasma burns, and began applying it to the wounds on the woman's face. "I'm sure your staff can make sure that Tucker and Reed don't break anything important."

The woman knocked Kerth's hand away, even as another crewmember, this one with dark hair and a golden cast to her skin, turned around to stare at Kerth. "Tucker and Reed?" Kerth's patient asked.

Kerth nodded. "Our engineers. Fine men, from your species, I believe. Been on the _Kraynita_ almost five months, which is a record for engineers. Most jump ship after three."

"The _Kraynita_?" The other woman repeated.

"Our ship."

The two women looked at each other. "Trip Tucker and Malcolm Reed?" the patient queried.

Kerth nodded, inwardly enjoying her little game. "Those are their names. Do you know them?" she asked.

"Know who?" Phlox asked as he came over to check on an unconscious patient on the bed next to where the three females were.

"Our engineers, Trip Tucker and Malcolm Reed," Kerth responded as she again began applying the poultice to her patient's wounds.

Phlox turned around, surprised as well. He looked at the other two, then shrugged. "Mr. Tucker and Mr. Reed served on this vessel as our chief engineer and our armory officer, respectively."

Kerth stopped applying the poultice, staring at the three _Enterprise_ crew. "I see," she said with restraint, though inside she was grinning. This was a good place to start warning the _Enterprise_ 's crew about how the _Kraynita_ 's crew felt about the two men. "I did not realize this was their former ship."

"If you had, what would you have done?" the dark haired woman asked.

"Told Captain Gesnick that perhaps this was one distress call best left unanswered," Kerth replied. She finished with her patient. "Keep that poultice on for at least four hours, and you won't be able to tell you were burned." She turned to the other Denobulan, who was still staring at her in surprise. "Next patient?" she asked.

Phlox cleared his throat. "Ensign Sato, will you assist Dr. Kerth in seeing to the less critically injured patients while I finish here?"

The dark haired woman nodded. "Ensign Baker has suffered plasma burns as well," the ensign said, leading Kerth away.

Hess looked at Phlox. "What did Commander Tucker and Lieutenant Reed tell their ship about why they left?"

Phlox sighed. "Probably the truth, which is a long story, as Captain Archer said when they left."

Hess suddenly smiled. "Well, at least the engine's in good hands." She lay back down on the biobed. "Maybe I'll follow doctor's orders after all."

Phlox chuckled. "Good, then I won't have to sedate you."

* * *

Eight hours after the arrival of the _Kraynita_ , Archer walked back into Engineering to see that the repairs were well on their way to being finished. Trip was on top of the warp reactor, working on something and calling down instructions to Dunne at the main controls. Malcolm was on the catwalk with Lieutenant Hess, replacing EPS conduits and power couplings. Captain Gesnick was on the main floor with Crewman Aikman, recalibrating some of the sensors.

Closing his eyes, listening to the familiar Southern accent as it rang across the compartment, Jon Archer could almost make himself believe that the past five months had never happened.

A frustrated sound from Trip made him open his eyes. "Well, if the problem can't be found here, it might be in the relays to the sensors. Wonder if the bridge sensors would work better."

Dunne shrugged. "We haven't been up there to check yet."

"Might want to send someone," Trip suggested as he replaced the panel covering before climbing down the ladder.

Hess and Malcolm approached, scanners in their hands. "Ensign Meyer says the relays from the tactical station on the bridge are out of alignment with the ones in the armory." She looked at her captain. "He's requested Mr. Reed's assistance."

The captain looked from Hess to Dunne. "Would it be easier to finish the repairs if both Mr. Reed and Mr. Tucker were on the bridge, ensuring those stations were working?"

Dunne and Hess looked at each other, then nodded. Archer turned to Captain Gesnick, painfully aware that he had no right to send Trip and Malcolm to the bridge. He'd lost that right when he'd acted like such an ass all those months ago. "Captain Gesnick, do you mind?"

The man looked up from his panel. "You two okay with that?" he asked his engineers. They both shrugged.

"If it's what it takes to get the _Enterprise_ runnin' again," Trip said.

"Wouldn't mind taking a peek at their bridge," Malcolm added, acting as if he hadn't served on the ship for over a year. Apparently, they had managed to maintain the fiction that they didn't know the _Enterprise_ or her crew.

"Good enough for me. Just remember, Captain Archer, I want them back. No stealing my engineers now that I've finally found two who are actually competent."

Archer winced, knowing that he had been thinking of ways to convince the men to return. However, he still had to deal with Starfleet Command. He was just grateful that long-range communications were still down, so he didn't have to lie to Admiral Forrest about the identities of the additional help. He wouldn't mind telling him later, after the _Kraynita_ was well away.

"I'll show you gentlemen to the bridge," he said now, leading the way out of engineering. Malcolm and Trip stopped to pick up their cases and followed.

It was a quiet ride to the bridge. Archer noticed that Hoshi and Travis turned toward the lift as soon as it opened, apparently warned of the men's imminent arrival. T'Pol was at her station, and simply nodded at the two men.

"Our communications officer, Ensign Sato, and our helmsman, Ensign Mayweather," Archer indicated the two crewmembers, playing along with the "Malcolm and Trip have never been on _Enterprise_ " charade. "These are the _Kraynita_ 's engineers, Mr. Tucker and Mr. Reed. They're going to check on the engineering and tactical stations, respectively." He pointed out both stations to the men, who nodded and moved toward them with confidence, settling into the chairs and checking monitors and sensor data. Trip was immediately in contact with engineering regarding the reactor, while Malcolm frowned at the monitor and opened the case at his feet, pulling out tools and sliding under the console to open it. Archer watched as he began replacing relays with easy confidence.

"The bridge looks whole again," he said under his breath, earning an agreeing nod from Hoshi where she sat working on the long-range communications array. He moved over to help her, not wanting to leave the bridge, enjoying having all of his original senior staff back in place.

Two hours later, Hoshi's panel beeped. She checked it. "Sir, we're getting a transmission from the _Kraynita_."

"Let's hear it," Archer said. The speakers crackled.

" _Enterprise_ , this is _Kraynita_ , come in please," the baritone voice of the _Kraynita_ 's com officer came through.

"This is Captain Archer, _Kraynita_. What can we do for you?"

"Sir, are Mr. Tucker or Mr. Reed available?"

Archer looked over at the two men in question, nodding permission at the questioning expression on Trip's face.

"We're here, Gerandik," Trip replied. "What's up?"

"Merisel still is," Gerandik replied.

Trip groaned as Malcolm shook his head. "Who is spoiling her rotten now?" the British man asked.

"That would be Selika."

"I'm gonna have to have words with that wife o' yours, Gerandik."

"Not before I do," Malcolm said quietly, but with no less conviction. The four other people on the bridge looked at each other in confusion.

"Actually, according to Waslia, she's refusing to go until she speaks to you."

The look that passed between Trip and Malcolm was laced with love and affection, but not for each other, Archer noticed. "Put her on," Trip said, setting down his scanner and sitting back in the chair. Malcolm leaned forward in a Trip-like pose, his forearms hanging over the edge of the console, a smile still on his face.

"When are you coming home?" a young-sounding female voice asked over the com, startling the _Enterprise_ crew.

Trip smiled. "When the _Enterprise_ 's engine is fixed, honey. You know we can't leave her here without an engine."

Archer, Travis, and Hoshi looked at each other. 'Honey?' Travis mouthed. Hoshi shrugged.

"Airith promised to read me the next chapter before I went to bed," the unknown voice continued, a stubborn tone in it.

"And I will, love, but it won't be tonight," Malcolm replied. He shot a swift glance at Trip, who nodded, before continuing, "Daddy and I will be back as soon as we're done here, all right?"

There was no response from the other ship.

"Merisel," Tucker called warningly, "Remember what Airith said if you weren't a good girl for Waslia and the others."

Giggles came over the channel. "I 'member, Daddy. I'll be good! I'll wait until you get back for my chapter."

"Goodnight, Merisel," Malcolm said with reluctance, as if he would rather be saying it in person, not over an open channel with several people listening.

"Goodnight, Airith. Goodnight, Daddy," Merisel replied.

"Goodnight, sweetheart. We'll be back soon." Trip looked at Malcolm when the channel clicked, indicating that Merisel's connection was closed. Gerandik's voice returned.

"Apologies, Tucker, Reed, but Waslia was pulling her hair out at getting Merisel to go to bed."

"Not a problem, Gerandik. We'll see you when we get back to _Kraynita_ ," Trip said, picking up his scanner again.

The com officer chuckled. "Should I warn Selika to avoid Reed?"

"I'd be more worried about Tucker, if I were Selika," Malcolm replied. He, too, was already back at work. "He's more devious when it comes to messing with helm officers."

As Trip stared at Malcolm, mouth open, Gerandik chuckled. "Duly noted. _Kraynita_ out." There was a click as the channel was closed.

"I'm more devious when it comes to messing with helm officers?" Trip asked.

Malcolm looked up at him and smiled. "Yerika Three?"

Trip shut his mouth. "Okay, you win."

Archer decided it was time to take back some control of his bridge. He cleared his throat. "Merisel?" he asked.

"Merisel," Trip said. He turned back to Malcolm. "Did we ever decide on a last name?"

"No."

Trip shrugged. "Well, Merisel is our daughter."

"I would assume," T'Pol said, "that she is not your biological daughter."

"Nope," Trip said cheerfully, still working on the console. "Adopted."

"She was or we were?" Malcolm asked with a smile.

"Both, Mal—remember? I adopted her, she adopted you."

"Right," Malcolm nodded. "Lines and all that."

"Wait. You two adopted?"

Malcolm turned to Travis, who had been one of his closer friends on _Enterprise_. "Well, it often happens, Ensign. People get married, then have children."

"You two are married?" Travis was incredulous. Hoshi was just as amazed.

"Almost eight months now," Trip said before he frowned. "Hey, Mal, take a look."

Malcolm got up from the armory station and peered over Trip's shoulder. "Bloody hell, no wonder everything is so bollixed."

Archer raised an eyebrow. "What's wrong?"

"You ran into Tenakian raiders. Their torpedoes have a particularly brutal side effect — an electrical discharge that shorts out systems in random places. It also leaves a distinct signature in the form of carbon scoring on damaged systems." Malcolm straightened. "Best thing to do," he mused, "is to do a ship-wide system scan to determine what is regular battle damage and what is torpedo damage. Then we can replace the torpedo-damaged systems first. Otherwise, it's quite possible that the discharge can jump to a healthy system and you'll be playing catch-up for months." He put a hand on Trip's shoulder. "Hate to say it, but the warp engine should be taken offline. If a discharge got into the reactor controls..."

Trip nodded. "Ka-boom, as Merisel would put it."

"Not exactly the sort of explosion I would like to see," Malcolm agreed.

"I take it you two have run into Tenakian raiders before." Archer walked around to put his hands on the back of his command chair, watching the two men. Trip was scanning ship's systems already.

"Several times. They're quite common around here." Malcolm was still staring over Trip's shoulder as he replied.

"They're the reason we have Merisel," Trip said softly.

Archer looked at the rest of his crew. Hoshi wasn't as surprised as Travis was, but he could see she empathized with the two over their experiences over the past month. Archer turned back to look at T'Pol. He sighed. "Mr. Tucker, Mr. Reed, continue scanning the ship for damage caused by the torpedo. Sub-Commander, I'd like to see you in my ready room."

Once inside the tiny office, Archer turned to her. "I know this is not Starfleet protocol, and probably highly illogical, but given Trip and Malcolm's experience with repairing Tenakian torpedo damage, I'd like to put them in charge of repairs. I just can't think of any way to do it that wouldn't involve granting them temporary commissions, which would activate the damned orders Starfleet refuses to rescind."

"Given their experience, they are the logical choice." T'Pol went silent for a second. "There is, perhaps, a way. If necessary, I am able to grant Vulcan ranks in order to achieve the High Command's goals. I believe the High Command would consider getting _Enterprise_ functional again a logical goal. The High Command has no directorate ordering the two men back to Earth."

Archer stared. "You would offer Trip and Malcolm, two humans, Vulcan ranks?"

"As I said, they are the logical choices to lead the repairs. If they were granted the rank of Sub-Commander, then they would only be answerable to you."

Archer ran a hand over his face. "We have their captain to deal with, though. From what Hoshi tells me, the crew of the _Kraynita_ know why Trip and Malcolm left _Enterprise_. Their doctor would have ignored our distress call had she known."

The com beeped. "Archer."

"Sir, we're receiving a transmission from Admiral Forrest."

Archer sighed. "I'll be right out. Ask Captain Gesnick to join us on the bridge." He looked at T'Pol. "They're not Starfleet anymore, and with their captain on the bridge, we can ward off whatever officious attitude the Admiral might take."

* * *

//Well, isn't this just dandy. Admiral Forrest and Soval.//

Trip was standing next to Malcolm, watching the viewscreen. Both he and Malcolm had moved from their stations the moment Hoshi had announced the transmission. Now they were standing at the back of the bridge, leaning against the railings that separated the main bridge from the situation room. On Malcolm's other side were Captain Gesnick and Kerth.

"Captain, how go the repairs?"

"Fine, Admiral. We've received assistance from a Horatian cargo ship, the _Kraynita_."

Admiral Forrest nodded. "Any word on Commander Tucker and Lieutenant Reed?" He apparently didn't see the two men at the back of the room. All four of the _Kraynita_ 's crew stiffened.

"Admiral, quite frankly, even if I had word, I wouldn't tell you. They're not Starfleet anymore, and they're not likely to re-join until that order is rescinded with no chance of it being issued again."

//Bastards.//

//Man, Starfleet's actin' Vulcan, holdin' a grudge that long.//

"Jon, you know we can't do that."

"No, Admiral, I don't know that you can't."

Ambassador Soval spoke up. "Captain, the kt'alini these men have been exposed to are an unknown element in a confined environment. The repercussions of the life form have not been fully examined."

"Oh give me a break," Terisan muttered. "Vulcans are more paranoid than Andorians."

Soval caught sight of Terisan. "I don't believe I know you."

Archer intervened. "This is Captain Terisan Gesnick of the _Kraynita_. He, his ship's doctor, and his two engineers have been invaluable in the repairs to _Enterprise_ and her crew."

Terisan glanced at Tucker and Reed. The movement brought the two men to the notice of the Admiral and the Ambassador.

"Jon, I thought you said —"

"These men are not Commander Tucker and Lieutenant Reed, Admiral. They are Trip Tucker and Malcolm Reed, the engineers from the _Kraynita_."

//Semantics, a wonderful thing.// Malcolm was trying not to laugh.

"Admiral, Ambassador," Terisan began. "These two men are the finest engineers I've ever had on my ship. Yes, I know about the kt'alini, and what it can do. I've never seen these two men be anything other than professional in their work, either. I have no idea what you seem to think they are capable of, but you're wrong. I would also warn you that I take a very dim view of anyone trying to remove my crewmembers against their will. Given _Enterprise_ 's weakened state, my ship is probably more than a match for her. And no, Admiral, that is not a threat, it is a promise. Tucker and Reed are my crewmembers until they choose to leave my ship. Lifemates such as they are hard to find out here, and I do not let such men go easily."

Admiral Forrest's jaw dropped. "Lifemates?"

//Cat's outta the bag.//

//Well, perhaps we ought to just have it out with the Admiral here.//

Trip stepped forward. "Married, Admiral. Reed and I were married on Il'endi under Il'endi law. Sub-Commander T'Pol can confirm that, she spoke with the Il'endi elders about it."

Soval turned to the Vulcan woman, who nodded. "They are, indeed, married."

Admiral Forrest shook his head. "This is worse than I expected."

Terisan glared. "Well, Admiral, since your people are apparently unable to appreciate men such as Tucker and Reed, I will be happy to remove them from your sight. Let's go." He headed for the lift, the other three following. Terisan opened his communicator. " _Kraynita_ , this is Gesnick. We're leaving. If _Enterprise_ tries to stop us, or you don't see our shuttle launching within five minutes, Wessic is free to open fire." A startled acknowledgement came from the _Kraynita_.

"If the _Kraynita_ fires, neither of you will have a chance at coming back to Starfleet," the Admiral warned.

That was enough for Malcolm. He wasn't nearly as outspoken as Trip, but he'd been bottling his anger for the past six months and the Admiral's words broke the bottle. He turned to face the screen, a calm expression on his face.

"You haven't exactly given us a reason to see Starfleet as something worthy of returning to, Admiral. In fact, Starfleet is proving to be rather xenophobic when it comes to its own officers. This ship is supposed to be the shining jewel in the Fleet, the standard bearer for other ships, the justification for humanity taking its place among the other races. Instead, you are demonstrating quite clearly why the Vulcans think we're not ready as a race, because you won't accept new ideas. You expect other races to fall into our preconceived notions of what is acceptable and right, and if they don't, then by God we shall make them see the error of their ways. And Heaven forbid some race demonstrate compassion and heal two injured Starfleet officers the only way they knew how. Letting us die would have been as offensive to the Il'endi as letting Klaang die was to humans. Yet we are being punished for their compassion, for their morals. At least Klaang was given a chance to prove his honor to his people. Mr. Tucker and I have been tried, convicted, and condemned for something we had no control over, without the chance to say a word in our own defense. And we think we're ready to take our place among other star-faring races?" Malcolm snorted in derision. "I used to think Starfleet was something worth joining, a chance to assist in humanity's new future. If it weren't for some of the people I've met, as well as my husband, I would rather regret joining Starfleet instead of the Royal Navy. So, Admiral, I can't see why I would rejoin Starfleet."

Malcolm turned and stalked into the turbolift, hitting the door release. He was shaking from anger. Trip pulled him close, rubbing a hand up and down his back. He looked over at Terisan and Kerth. "Thanks."

Both nodded. The four made their way to the shuttle. Hess and Meyer were standing by the airlock. "The Admiral is trying to order me to do something, but my communicator's 'out'," Meyer said urgently. "Better get going."

"Thanks, Alan." Malcolm clasped the man's arm briefly.

"Someday I want the whole story," he said.

"We'll let Phlox give it to you," Trip replied. "I think the entire crew deserves the truth."

"Trip, Malcolm," Hess said before she hit the airlock controls. "Congratulations on your marriage."

The men smiled as the doors closed, once again cutting them off from everyone they'd known, and possibly from the chance to ever return.


End file.
